


The Harrowing

by Primed58



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-10
Updated: 2012-05-29
Packaged: 2017-11-02 22:14:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/373924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Primed58/pseuds/Primed58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My character Rhaina Amell, based on the Dragon Age Origins game.  This is not a strictly canon story, although a great deal of it is based on the Dragon Age Origins game by Bioware, to which I give all accolades to EA and Bioware.  I have rated it explicit as chapters five and on will have material appropriate for that rating.  All feedback is appreciated, otherwise how would I know if you liked or hated it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaina Amell is but a child when she arrives at the Circle Tower. As she progresses in her training, a strange vision changes all her expectations, and life at the Circle becomes more difficult for the once prodigious mage.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is set several years before The Harrowing. The main theme will be close to the game as well as characterizations of the main players. I have taken some liberal license and added some things not in the DAO game, so it may stray from the true game from time to time. I hope you enjoy it.
> 
> Many thanks to Retln8, a marvelous writer in her own right, for being my confidant and editor. Her works are also posted on the Archive and I advise reading them!!

Rhaina Amell came to the Circle tower when she was three. Most of the other apprentices came at age five or even later, at whatever time their magic abilities manifested in one way or another. While they had family they missed, or remembered, Rhaina could not say the same, she had no memories except those of her life in the Circle. 

It was not necessarily a bad life, especially if one kept busy and allowed little time for thought outside her studies and chores. For Rhaina the tranquil were the best to work with, so focused and not inquisitive about her past, her talent, or her habits. She volunteered to help in the kitchens after evening meals as a way to avoid the most social hour of the day when apprentices were released from their studies to do as they may in the dormitories or the library. 

When she had first arrived, the First Enchanter and Knight-Commander were not sure what to do with her; she was too young to be placed in the apprentice dorms. Finally Irving had given her care over to several female senior mages until she was old enough to control her bodily functions, and understand that her talent was not to be used, except in the presence of a senior enchanter. Her age was unusual, but the amount of magical power she possessed was even more so. This was not something she understood for a very long time.  
These special circumstances caused her to be set apart from the other apprentices. Later, when she lived among them, she had tried sitting with them at meal times, or to join in a friendly discussion in the halls, but she was always rebuffed. After a short time she stopped trying to fit in. As she grew older it became apparent she was adept at almost any magical invocation. It was just one more thing that separated herself from her peers.

She had been studying with Senior Enchanter Wynne when she was twelve, learning the healing arts, as well as those to aid in defense and protection. She was concentrating on bringing a repulsion field around her and marveling at the flow of energy from her hands, when time seemed to stop. She saw herself and Wynne as if looking down from above, but unfocused, like a dream. Wynne was walking towards her, speaking but she could hear no words, and the look on her own face was, well, blank. Her eyes looked outward, unseeing, large violet eyes in too small a face, her black hair braided over her right shoulder, her hands poised in front of her. She was not tall; the apprentice robe dragged the floor and hung on her slight frame. She did not blink.

It was like looking into a mirror. She was inexplicably drawn to this waif of a girl as if the girl she looked at was not her at all, but of infinite interest. Trying to get closer she willed herself downward, but something nagged at her attention. Annoyed, she looked behind her, and saw a forest. She had never been outside except the grounds immediately outside the tower, and this was no place in her memory. Enchanted, she let herself float towards this vision as it expanded.

The forest was dense with trees and brush that covered the ground so thickly that walking would have been impossible. It was afternoon, by the look of the sun as she peered to the side, but the forest was all black and shades of gray, impenetrable. Then the ground shifted and seemed to boil up from underneath as it spewed up strange, twisted monsters by the dozens, all grotesque, fearsome beings of what appeared to have once been men, beasts, and dwarves. But these were loathsome, evil things with no thought but to annihilate all in their path. Even the forest, catching fire near some of the creatures seemed to wilt as they passed. She shuddered, afraid they could see her.

As suddenly as it had arrived, it was gone. She thought she could hear screaming, but it seemed dull and far away, she closed her eyes against a tide of nausea as a wave of dizziness almost brought her to her knees. And then the Maker punished her. She was thrown onto her back, the wind knocked out of her and stars exploded in her eyes as her head cracked against the hard stone floor. Pain, such as she had never before experienced ripped through every fiber of her being. She thought she screamed, and she was lost in it. As the world turned to dark and she fell into unconsciousness, she thought she could feel that ripple of a vision, like a spider’s web, tugging at her mind.

When she awakened, it was a slow and arduous process. Muscles screamed at the slightest movement and the pounding in her head kept tempo with the beat every of her heart. Her mind was aware, but her body seemed inclined to remain asleep. Willing her eyes to open, she managed to finally peer into what was the Circle Tower infirmary, and winced against the light from various candles near the bed. Above her was the face of the First Enchanter. Someone was holding her hand. Irving smiled a soft and welcoming gesture that wrinkled the skin around his blue eyes. She smiled back, or tried to.

“There now child, how do you feel?” Irving asked her. The compulsion to answer was strong, so ingrained was Irving’s’ authority but what came out of her lips was a groan as her eyes slid shut once again.

~*~

“The safest thing to do would be to make her Tranquil, Irving.” Knight-Commander Greagoir intoned. They were gathered in Irving’s study; Greagoir, Irving, Wynne, another senior mage, Uldred and the Templar Targus that had emitted the Holy Smite that had crippled the girl.

Irving and Wynne both rose at the same time to argue against this. “She is but twelve!” Irving argued. “This is merely her coming into her courses, as we told you. A precarious time for most female mages and she was not ready. Her slight stature makes us all forget how young she truly is.”

“Not only that, Knight-Commander,” Wynne frowned at him, not the least cowed by him as a Senior Mage. “Rhaina did nothing, she merely stopped for a moment and the energy flow backed up on her. Your Templar overreacted.” Wynne folded her arms over her chest, a tall formidable woman of advancing years that had been at the tower longer than everyone but Irving.

“We cannot know what happened until she regains consciousness for longer than a moment, Greagoir!” Irving argued. “Until then, someone is constantly with her.” Uldred moved to stand with Irving and Wynne, laying a hand on Irving’s shoulder, bidding for restraint.

“Knight-Commander, we must allow the child to at least explain what she was doing and feeling at the time of her lapse.” He nodded his head towards his fellows. “None of us are less concerned than you, but patience will serve better in this case.”

Greagoir regarded the three most trusted mages in the Circle. His duty was clear, but if his Templar had merely overreacted he would know that as well. He was fair to a fault, and followed his duty regardless.

“All right Irving,” He signaled to Templar Targus to accompany him out of the infirmary. “Two Templars outside the door at all times, and two Senior Mages will be in attendance at the very least.” He turned for the door but stopped short of leaving. “And Irving, I will be summoned at whatever hour she awakens.”

~*~

One week later, Rhaina was finally able to get out of bed. The crack to her skull was a concussion, at least according to Wynne. The constant headache accompanied by vomiting every time she tried to get out of bed before had finally subsided. She still ached to her very core, but now understood just how fierce a Templar could be, and how dangerous, at least to mages.

She had never really understood why anyone would want to be a Templar; standing around watching mages work and study, even sleep, seemed a boring existence. If an attack was to come, she fully expected it to be in the form of the formidable weapons they carried and not from some unseen magical ability. They were all taught what the Templars would do if they suspected a demon or abomination were to take over them, but the reality was a great deal more painful than she could have guessed.

The First Enchanter had been by often, asking many questions, but everything was a blur at first. Late one night, sound asleep, she relived that moment in nightmare, waking in a cold sweat with Wynne at her side. “What is it Rhaina?” Wynne had asked.

“I remember a vision that came to me that day ….” And so she told Wynne what she could remember. Wynne sponged her face with a cool cloth and brushed her hair from her face over and over until Rhaina felt sleep overcome her once again. Wynne was how she imagined her mother would be; wise, patient, and caring. It did no harm to anyone if she pretended for just a little while.

Once Wynne was sure the child was sleeping again, she summoned one of the tranquil that assisted in the infirmary and sent them with a note to Irving.

“We need to talk.”  
Wynne

Irving read the note and dismissed the tranquil back to her duties. It was late enough that he did not summon Uldred, or the Knight-Commander. He would wait to see what Wynne had discovered before proceeding further.

Irving did not go directly to the infirmary. He stopped at the kitchens to appropriate a cup of tea, and made his way to the library. He pretended to read a text regarding healing practices and then made his way slowly to the infirmary. The two Templars on duty nodded at him and he smiled as he opened the door, closing it firmly behind him, leaving them outside, where he hoped they would stay. He hoped to hear what Wynne had to say before Greagoir was notified.

Wynne filled him in on the girls’ vision but it told him little. Wynne seemed to be watching him for some reaction and he frowned at her, disliking it when she played the teacher with him.

“You seem to have an opinion on the matter Wynne, let me hear it.” They both kept their voices low, both to not waken the sleeping child and not to be overheard.

“I think she saw a Blight.” She pursed her lips together and looked at the girl. “Whether it was precognitive or not ….. “ Wynne did not finish the sentence.

“What make you think it was a premonition and not some nightmare?” Irving ran his hand through his beard and set his tea down on the table next to the girl. He looked at Wynne, and then turned to sit in the chair placed next to the small pallet that Rhaina slept in. The wooden chair creaked under his weight.  
“Has she begun having her courses?” Irving questioned Wynne softly as he inspected the frail girl.

“Oh, Irving, really,” Wynne clucked her tongue. “She has extraordinary talent; I have not seen anything like it. Her courses started three months ago so far as her records say. There were evidently no problems reported at the time.”

“What bothers me most is that nothing seems to impede her. Magic comes easily, too easily and she is too young to comprehend the danger to herself as well as those around her.” Wynne rubbed her hands up and down her arms in an attempt to warm herself from a sudden chill.

“So, either it was precognitive or a demon?” Irving stood and turned Wynne to face him fully. “Greagoir will make her tranquil at the mere thought of that danger.”

Both of them regarded the girl. Neither of them wanted to see the girl made tranquil. To strip her rare talent would be such a waste! Irving considered the option available to them.

“We could bind her magic.” Irving nodded to himself. “She will not have it as easy as she does now, but it would give us the time to train her, to make her understand.” Wynne looked at him, her eyes widened in surprise. 

“How will we do this?” She asked.

“I am not First Enchanter for nothing Wynne. We will need to act quickly.” He moved to seat Wynne next to the girl, and grasped her by the wrist guiding her hands to Rhaina’s chest and left wrist. He placed his own hands on either side of the girls face. “You will monitor her heart, and heal or support as necessary.” He whispered to Wynne before closing his eyes and began to mumble incoherently over the child.

Wynne felt Rhaina’s heart speed up slightly, and then it actually jumped against her hands just seconds later. Wynne concentrated on keeping the girls heart beating a steady rhythmic beat, Irving continued to mumble words that were unintelligible as sweat appeared on his brow and he was bowing so that his forehead was almost touching Rhaina who had grown so pale as to appear transparent. Wynne poured her healing into the child, sensing the need to bolster her or calm as the moments passed.

Finally, Irving began to pull away, but did not remove his hands until almost full standing. Wynne did not release Rhaina until she felt the child was stable and then quickly guided Irving to the chair she vacated where he slumped with exhaustion. Wynne fluttered about him, wiping away the sweat from his face until he seemed to begin to regain his strength.

Wynne was quite astonished. She had never heard of a spell to bind another mage and curiosity burned in her. She was about to ask when the door to the infirmary opened and Greagoir strode in alone.

“Well, Irving. I assumed you would call me should there be more to report.” Greagoir left the statement unfinished as he cocked an eyebrow at both Irving and Wynne.

“As I said before Greagoir, it was merely her courses.” He stood and nodded to Wynne. “I see no reason to keep her in the infirmary after today, she may return to her studies.” He did walk up to Greagoir, ignoring the perpetual frown on the Knight-Commanders face as he steered him away from Wynne and Rhaina. “I do think she should be monitored for a few months during her training exercises, perhaps Templar involvement would not be remiss.” Greagoir glanced from Wynne to Irving and narrowed his eyes towards Irving.

“This can be arranged.” Irving nodded and started for the exit. “But Irving, I will not allow for another such, shall we say, unusual occurrence where she is concerned. Should anything be amiss, she will be made tranquil.” Irving regarded Greagoir, his face impassive.

“Of course,” He turned to Wynne. “We all understand what is at stake here. Wynne will stay the night, but she will be moved in the morning. I trust all the other arrangements will be handled by you.” Wynne nodded and began to remove the basin and bathing cloths from the bed side. Irving walked from the room with Greagoir in his wake as they made their way to separate quarters. Irving trusted Wynne would do what was needed to keep the child quiet until the morning. He just hoped the spell was enough.

~*~


	2. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A day of new friends and new beginnings for Rhaina Amell

Irving watched Rhaina as she studied with the other apprentices; he hid in the shadows of the library within a section behind the bookcases not accessible except to himself and the Templars. It had been two years since he had worked the spell that had bound her magic. He had, throughout his tenure as First Enchanter, observed many apprentices and their instructors. Sometimes it was at the suggestion of Knight-Commander Greagoir when evaluating apprentices for whether the Harrowing or Tranquility, but today, he wanted to see how Rhaina fared in her training.

Senior Enchanter Torrin was instructing Rhaina on spells that utilized the surrounding air and pressure. Rhaina was not yet allowed a staff; projections came through her ability alone. One hand stretched out in front of her as she faced Torrin, who was a good ten feet away for safety, but Irving could see his shield come alive as Rhaina almost succeeded in knocking him from his feet. Rhaina was smiling at the discomfited instructor; sure she had finally gotten the spell correct. Torrin walked up to the girl and patted her shoulder as he steered her towards the apprentice dorms.

“Very good, Rhaina, we will continue tomorrow morning on control of the spell. I have instructed the library to avail a few chapters for your study this afternoon.”

Rhaina’s shoulders slumped as they walked away. “Of course Senior Enchanter, I will go immediately.” She had hoped for more than that from him was clear

Torrin watched her go, relieved that she had not knocked him from his feet. He would have to speak to Irving about getting her assigned to someone who could help her with her control. She could perform the spells well enough, but her power was off the chart of his experience. He was a little afraid she would overwhelm him one day.

Rhaina read the chapters without really seeing them as tears swam in her eyes. She knew the spell, and so many others, but something was always wrong; too strong of a sending, too soft the touch, and the wrong direction. She faced away from the others studying and covered her eyes with one hand to still the tears before they fell. For once she was grateful for the distance. 

She dropped her hand at the sound of footsteps and waited for the person to walk by as she pretended to study, not wishing to be disturbed. Of course no one usually would disturb her as she was not even liked by most of the other apprentices, especially since wherever she went, at least one Templar would be watching her as his sole duty.

Thankfully, over the years, the Templars at least stayed twenty feet back or more, so long as she was not working her magic, and stayed in their sight.

“Excuse me,” A young man stopped at her table, gesturing to the bench next to hers, “Do you mind if I sit here?” So surprised, she merely shook her head no, lips drawn into a fine line, as she tried to concentrate on the book in front of her and not the young man. It was a big library, with tables in each section stretching out at least fifteen feet. Bookcases covered every available wall space and were used to create each alcove, offering separate teaching areas and ample space for any type of study. She wondered if he was pulling some sort of prank, no one had sought her out before except to make her the fool by accepting the false overture.

Rhaina had seen him before, but he slept in the other dormitory. He had been at the tower for as long as she could remember, and while he seemed friendly enough with most of the other apprentices, she had never seen him single out any particular person or group. He was a few years older so they had not interacted very much over the years.

She watched him push his sandy blond hair from his eyes as he opened his books. He looked up and smiled at her and she saw he had vivid green eyes that seemed to dance in the candlelight, full of mischief. Rhaina hoped that the mischief was not aimed in her direction, she had enough problems.

She smiled back, but did not encourage him farther, choosing instead to concentrate on her studies. She wondered what his name was, but not wanting to make her curiosity evident, she said nothing. When he did nothing but continue reading his tome, she was able to finally turn to her own reading and she forgot he was there.

The closing of his book brought her back to the present. Startled, she looked around and saw the other apprentices leaving the library. The boy stretched his arm into the air and twisted as he stretched his back and she could hear little pops from his bones as they protested the movement.

“Ah, now then, supper is my favorite!” Standing, he bent to gather his books and then stopped to regard her. “My name is Jowan.” And he juggled his books to extend a hand in her direction. Rhaina stood and took his hand but quickly pulled away. Jowan grasped his books in both hands once again. He waited and finally cocked an eyebrow at her.

“Oh, I am Rhaina.” She finally told him. He smiled and nodded at her.

“Rhaina, that’s not a name you hear every day. It is nice to meet you though.” He started to walk away but stopped abruptly to turn back towards her. “See you tomorrow!” and he walked cheerfully away. Rhaina watched him put his books away and head towards the Great Hall. 

As she turned to gather her own books a Templar approached from the other side. Fully helmed, she did not know who he was, but she kept herself calm even though her heart always wanted to race whenever they came too close. 

“The First Enchanter has requested your attendance.” You could never really tell by the voice either as it seemed to echo in his helmet. She wondered if it echoed for him to, and she almost chuckled before thinking better of it. 

“Yes, ser.” She did not try to put her books away, and carried them with her instead. There were few people in the corridors as they prepared for the final meal of the day, but most were used to seeing her dogged by Templars anyway and ignored their passing.

The Templar stayed outside when they reached Irving’s study. Irving pointedly closed and locked the door, smiling as he guided her to a chair before his desk before seating himself on the other side facing her. A long table ran the length of the study to the side of the room and was littered with various books and objects; feathers, a skull, and several bottles with varying colors of liquid.

Irving’s smile was kind as he regarded her and he placed his hands steeped in front of him. This was the first time she had spoken to Irving directly since her fainting fit two years before.

“How are your studies Rhaina?” He asked. “I understand you are somewhat, frustrated.” His eyes watched her, as if waiting for her to sprout wings and fly about the room, and she found herself uncomfortable under his gaze.

“A little, First Enchanter.” She cleared her throat to project a stronger voice. “But, I am studying very hard.”

Irving nodded and rose from the desk to come around and take the seat next to hers. Okay, now she was uncomfortable! She squirmed in her chair and wished herself back in the library, or in the kitchens, anywhere but here.

“Tell me about it.” Irving asked, not demanding. “Here, child,” He took the books from her hands and set them upon the desk. “You have nothing to fear here. Talk of what is bothering you.”

He seemed sincere, but she honestly did not know how to start. The palms of her hands had broken out in a sweat and she folded them in her lap to avoid wiping them on her robe. Rhaina knew there was no avoiding the question, but while she did not truly fear the First Enchanter, she was definitely nervous.

“I see the spell, I see what needs to be done, but it always goes wrong in the end.” Rhaina bit her lip, and tried to keep the tears from welling up. “I am afraid of what will go wrong.” Irving nodded and stroked his beard as he thought about what she had said. She was grateful that he was taking the time to consider her words.

“What do you think will go wrong?” He finally asked. She looked away and stared about the room, not really seeing the bookshelf lined walls, the huge desk at her feet. She did finally focus on the intricate pattern on the rug underneath her before continuing.

“I am not sure what will happen. I only know that if I don’t hold back, someone will get hurt.” She sniffed as a single tear escaped and ran down her cheek. Reaching up to wipe the offending tear away, Rhaina continued. “I can see what needs to happen, I can pull and mold the elements, I can heal, but whenever I am asked to do these spells to someone else, I freeze a little.” She sniffed again, but no more tears followed as she forced herself to look the First Enchanter in the eye. She almost burst in tears from sheer relief when he smiled at her, sympathy written on his face.

“Well, I think I see.” He patted her knee as he rose and went to a chest sitting in the corner of the study. He rummaged around for a few moments before retrieving a small item that fit into his hand, closing the lid he then returned to sit beside her. The cloth in his hand was a tapestry of intricate design, multi colors of green, brown and blue, but the design eluded study while within Irving’s hand.

Crossing his legs he clenched his fist around the item and looked at her, his free hand coming up to gently grasp her right wrist. Rhaina could not look away from his eyes and gave no resistance as he placed the parcel in her hand and then closed her fingers over it. He started to speak, and she felt a small jolt in her hand, like a knife’s keen edge going straight into her palm, but before she could protest he gripped her chin bidding her to continue looking at him. He did not speak, but she could hear his demands in her mind as though he spoke aloud.

“There now,” Irving stood and went to unlock the door before returning to sit at his place across from her and behind his desk. “You will advance your studies and report to Uldred and Wynne tomorrow morning.” He folded his hands and smiled at her proudly. She looked around the room, feeling as though she had just woken up from a nap. Her thoughts seemed a bit fuzzy.

Irving gathered her books and handed them back into her keeping. At the sight of his hands near hers, she remembered the small packet and looked to the palm of her hand. It was as if nothing had happened, no tapestry, no mark to account for the sharp pain she had felt. Rhaina looked at Irving, questions pooling in her eyes that reflected violet in the candlelight.

“I am to advance?” She was confused, thinking she was going to be held back longer. “Are you sure, I mean, I am not ungrateful, I just …. “ She stumbled over her words, feeling awkward, sure she had missed something.

Irving shook his head and stood up and brought her to her feet when he came around the desk. “Yes, child, you should trust me in this matter.” He steered her towards the door and opened it. There was no Templar escort and she dug her heels in a bit as he pushed her gently towards the hall. She looked both directions, but it was empty. When she looked questioningly at Irving, he nodded, and smiled. “You no longer require monitoring child, the Knight-Commander and I have agreed.” He turned her again towards the hall, “Now off to supper with you!” He cheerfully urged her on before closing the door and shutting her out.

As he closed the door, Irving carefully locked it once again. Taking the tapestry from his robe pocket, he went to the potted plant that sat next to his desk and carefully buried the small bit of cloth deep into the soil. He chanted as he did so, a soft melodic chant, learned long ago;

Gods of old, I beseech you  
Take this offering, of innocence and faith  
Gods of old, I beseech you,  
Grant the giver and the bearer that which is promised  
Gods of old, I beseech you,  
May the veil be lifted, power restored, unwavering  
And truth win overall

Irving felt the magic flowing into the plants roots not removing his hand until the flow began to ebb and the gift accepted. If anyone were to dig at the plant tomorrow, they would find nothing. Wiping the dirt from his hands, he was surprised to find he was a little unsteady on his feet. Taking the chair recently vacated by Rhaina he fought to quell the shaking of his limbs. He could almost hear his mentor’s voice as he was instructed as a child;

“Magic will come back at you, the darker the spell, the larger the ripple.”

Irving, wished for some guidance then, although he knew it was much too late to undo what he had done. Rhaina would have no hindrance to her magic after today. She would continue as any other apprentice, to success or failure was now out of his hands.

Rhaina made her way back to the library and put her books away. It was quiet, most everyone having gone to their supper, but she was reluctant to leave now that she was alone. Really alone, no Templar hovering, no apprentices studiously ignoring her, it felt a little odd. She was hungry, but she wanted to relish the solitude for a moment. The candles flickered in their sconces at every station that might have a student sitting near so the room was quite bright. She ran her hands along the various book bindings as she slowly strolled through the room, it felt different, more colorful, bigger and brighter than when she sat here with Jowan.

 

Finally her stomach won over the novelty of being alone. Leaving the library and heading towards the stairs and the Great Hall, Rhaina heard the familiar sound of metal boots on the stone floor behind her. She slowed up just a little to let the Templar pass, she just wanted to enjoy the time alone a bit longer without drawing undue attention to herself.

The footsteps came closer and she hoped about to pass her by. Instead a hand gripped her arm in a steel vise and she winced, biting her lip to keep from crying out as she had little time to react before being pulled into the chest of the Templar until her face was pressed into his breastplate. As he backed her against the wall and pinned her there, she struggled to scream, to get away, but he held her fast. She could not even see who her attacker was.

“Finally,” A familiar voice filled with rage spoke. “I have waited two years to pay you back for your little stunt, bitch.” Ser Targus kept her from seeing his face as his gloved hands covered her mouth in a brutal grip. He kept a hand over her mouth but moved them away from the wall one arm like steel across her abdomen as he pulled and dragged her out of the library. The high walls and tall ceilings echoed with the clank of armor on stone as he pulled her through the short passageway between the library and the apprentice dorms. This room was much larger, emptier than most, acting as a buffer between the apprentice dorms and the library. The only other door was down a short flight of stairs to the basement and the Repository where she was forbidden to go.

Her slight frame was no match for his much greater strength, and she had no idea what he intended to do once she was in the Repository, but having just gained her freedom, she had no wish to jeopardize it again.

Damned if she was caught in there, and damned if she used her magic against him. So damned it was, and as she gathered her energies to strike at the Templar she was suddenly thrown from his grasp to land in a heap on the one carpeted area of the entire room. Her mouth bled profusely and she gagged, coughing as she tried to get up, readying herself for another attack. Her back ached like fire, and she stumbled to her feet in time to see another Templar holding Ser Targus to the floor, his boot firmly pressed to his neck, sword drawn. Rhaina felt so relieved, her knees buckled and she landed on them hard.

She did not recognize this particular Templar, strange that he did not have his helmet on as most did when on duty. His hair was short, curling behind his ears just a little, but otherwise was immaculately trimmed red blond that shown like a halo in the candlelight. His jaw was square and strong, with lips that curved into a slight smile regarding her but pursed as he pushed his foot harder onto Ser Targus’s neck. He turned to haul the much older Ser Targus up from the floor, pushing the sputtering Templar back towards the library.

“What are you doing, recruit?” Targus snarled as he came to his full intimidating height. To Rhaina’s surprise, the younger man was a little taller than Targus and she took a step towards the two men. “You just turn the mage bitch over and get out of my way; I will deal with you later.” Targus glared at her and she shrank from the sheer hatred in his face. As Targus made to move around the younger man, the young Templar brought his left fist up quickly and connected to the side of Targus’s face, a gauntlet size welt reddening his temple as he fell like a stone to the floor.

“Stupid bastard.” The young man growled before turning towards Rhaina as he sheathed his sword at his side.

Rhaina was stunned. She had never seen such quickness or strength before and was duly impressed. She wanted to thank him and tried to do just that but her lip was torn and bleeding, something she had cleanly forgotten as the scene had played out before her. Some impression she must be making as she slid to the floor, her legs shaking, turning to water just when she wanted to be strong.

She had never thought much about the other boys in the tower as something other than classmates, and the Templars she never thought much about at all, except as they did their job but the mages did not really interact with them. As the Templar caught her before she hit the ground, he picked her up easily, and for the second time that day she found herself pressed into a suit of armor.

His hands were gentle, a nice change, and she felt a flutter in the pit of her stomach that she hoped meant she wasn’t going to throw up after all. He had blue eyes.

“I am sorry miss,” His voice was deep like honey and she shivered. “I am Cullen.” He began walking towards the library again, leaving Ser Targus unconscious on the stone floor. Rhaina reached into the sleeve of her robe and brought a linen handkerchief out, pressing it to her mouth. Hoping she had blotted the worst of the mess she winced as her teeth pressed against the wound.

“Rhaina,” She told him as she tried to seem older than her fourteen years. “My name is Rhaina.” Cullen smiled, an expression that made his entire face seem more her age. She wanted to reach up and touch his face, to share that smile.

Cullen carried her quickly through the library and up the stairs to the infirmary. The mage on duty directed him to place her on the pallet closest to the door. She noticed his face became impassive when they were no longer alone and he set her quickly down, and as swiftly as she had met him he was gone without so much as a backwards glance. Rhaina probably should have been grateful as her stomach rebelled from swallowing so much blood and she threw up after all.

~*~


	3. The cure for what ails you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaina meets Anders. Two handsome rescuers in a single day, as events begin a whirl of excitement!

The young man attending the infirmary was one she had seen around the apprentice dorms, but had little direct contact with. He was remarkably patient as she vomited until there was nothing left

He disposed of the refuse and came back with water and cloth which he used to clean her face, very gently.Surprise was all she felt as his healing powers took away the pain while he held her chin.He seemed too young to be here alone, healing with quickness that did not give her time to begin thinking too much about why she was here in the first place.

“My name is Anders.” His hand was warm on her face, tilting her head this way and that as he surveyed his handiwork. “You are Rhaina, yes?”She nodded, looking away.

Anders could not be more than a few years older, but as he looked at her, she felt the weight of years in those amber eyes.He had full lips that gave a hesitant smile, accentuating his strong cheekbones and angled jawline.His hair was longer than most apprentices, but was currently bound in a severe pony tail with a throng of leather, strawberry highlights shone in the candlelight.A few strands of the light colored locks had escaped their confines and brushed his temples.He was very good looking, at least she thought so.By all accounts in the rumor mills, so did many other apprentices.

“Better?”He asked as he let go her chin but did not move from her side, his hips ran alongside hers from his perch on the narrow cot. His arms rested on his thighs, hands dangling between his knees, making no attempt to lessen the contact.

“Yes.Thank you.”Her hand reached up to feel her chin, testing the flesh there, but it felt fine, just a little tight across her lower lip

“What happened?” She raised her eyes to his face once again as he spoke, his voice like silk over steel and she shivered.Two handsome boys in one day, she did not know what to think.

“Ser Targus.”She began. “Evidently, he has been angry with me for some time.”

Anders stood so fast, the cot rocked, then settled back on all four legs.She had grabbed either side to keep from falling out, and now sat up and watched him as he cleaned up the small mess around her in short angry movements, avoiding eye contact with her as he did so.

The room was small, more like an oversized closet than not.There were three cots, all against walls, the farthest wall held a cabinet and work table that Anders strode to, keeping his back to her as she rose from her cot to sit on the edge vacated by him.

Candles flanked the work area around Anders, reflecting off his hair, giving him a slight halo.She was less sure she should have told him anything regarding Templars.Apprentices were not supposed to interfere with or spread talk that would cause the Templars difficulty with their charges.

“Cullen saved me though.”She volunteered, hoping that would ease the anger so obvious in his stiff stance.His shoulders did relax a bit, and he turned to face her once again.He smiled but if it was meant to reassure her, it missed the goal.His lips were drawn in a tight line and his eyes seemed sad.She suddenly felt the need to reassure him.

Standing, she walked the few steps to stand at his side and placed her hand on his arm. “Really, it’s all right.”His amber eyes regarded her, and the anger receded as he did so.

“How old are you?” He asked, looking at her hand on his arm.She dropped her hand to her side and turned away.

“Fourteen.”She answered.He laid his own hand on her shoulder guiding her back to the cot.

“I am sure someone will be along shortly to sort this out, so let’s make you more presentable, shall we.”He produced a brush from his coat pocket and she gasped, he own hands flying to her head, realizing she must look a complete mess, her hair unbound and tangled.Her robes had blood stains down the front and along one sleeve.She groaned, completely mortified, and then embarrassed as he began to brush her hair gently, coaxing the tangles free without causing any pain.

As she relaxed under his ministrations, forgetting to be self-conscious, no one had done this for her since she had been very young and it was remarkably intimate, but soothing.As Anders began to braid her hair she wondered about him.

“Why do they let you work alone in here?I mean, I thought all apprentices had to be supervised.”Anders chuckled at her question, his eyebrows raised in amusement.He was even more handsome when he smiled.

“Wynne is supposed to be here, but the old bat stepped out for a moment just before you arrived.”He patted her shoulder and pushed her back towards the cot.“So sit down and relax before she gets back and accuses me of corrupting children.”He smiled when he said it but she knew from her own experiences with Wynne that she expected a great deal from her students, and brooked no straying from the rules.

Just as she sat, the door opened and in swept Wynne, followed closely by Knight-Commander Greagoir.Wynne glanced from Rhaina and over to Anders, but he raised a hand against her protests.

“I could not let her bleed all over herself waiting for you to show up Senior Enchanter.”Anders explained to Wynne.

“Humph.”Was the only acknowledgment she gave him before turning her attention to Rhaina and drawing her up from the small bed.

“Well, I should think that was enough excitement for one day.”Wynne was a great deal taller than Rhaina, as most people were except for the elves in the tower.Wynne frowned, and grasped Rhaina’s chin in a gentle grip, turning her face side to side. “You will have a slight scar, but you are young and it will likely fade.”Releasing her chin, Wynne took her arm and guided her to the door.“Come, I think we need to speak with Irving.”

Greagoir stared at Anders, eyes narrowed.For his part Anders did not flinch under that gaze, just cocked an eyebrow in question.Rhaina would have been quaking in her boots under the same circumstances and thought Anders remarkably brave.

“Close the infirmary Anders.You may study in the library this afternoon.”Greagoir instructed him before turning and ushering the two women out the door.

Anders breathed a sigh of relief as the door shut.Wynne was just an irritant, even if she was talented at healing, while Greagoir held the power of his life in his hands, not something Anders was willing to toy with at this juncture.

He thought about the hand that Rhaina had placed upon his arm, the warmth he had felt, but more importantly she had actually soothed his anger with a _sending_ of calm.Interesting, very interesting.He intended to find out more about her before they spoke again.

 


	4. Tension in the room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhaina faces Irving and learns some of her past, and the future seems uncertain.

Irving was waiting in his office with the young Templar recruit Cullen, both stood talking off to the side of Irving’s large desk but turned as the door opened by the Knight-Commander and he ushered both ladies through.Cullen came to strict attention in the presence of his superior and barely spared Rhaina a glance.She didn’t quite know why that should hurt, but it did.So in response, she avoided looking at him and kept her eyes locked on Irving.

Greagoir nodded to Cullen as he came to stand next to Irving. “You may report back to duty recruit Cullen.” Rhaina tried again to see his face as he turned smartly to leave but was disappointed when all she caught was his retreating back as he closed the door behind him.

Wynne still gripped her upper arm but released her when she looked at the offending hand and Wynne folded her arms across her chest in perpetual disapproval, a stance she often took, it went well with her frown.Rhaina sighed and rubbed her eyes, suddenly very tired.

Irving listened to Rhaina as she described the incident; her voice was devoid of any emotion in the telling.He was more concerned about the obvious detachment than the incident itself, Greagoir would handle Targus, of that he had no doubt.

When she finished, both Wynne and Greagoir left them alone for which Irving was grateful.Wynne was a resourceful and talented healer, but her tendency to interject her own opinions was not always what Irving needed in more delicate situations.Greagoir would do as his duty dictated, also not something Irving needed at the front of this conversation.

Irving remembered the Rhaina of two years ago, prior to that unfortunate incident with the Templar, she had been inquisitive, alert, undaunted and the ease with which she had tapped into that power was impressive.Now, she avoided confrontation, or tried so hard to deflect attention that she generally went unnoticed, especially by the other apprentices.

Gesturing for Rhaina to sit in one of the two chairs before his desk, he took the chair behind it and faced her squarely. Reaching to pull a book from the center drawer, he laid it before him, knowing he was about to break a great many rules that the Templars held dear, but they did not always agree.

“How much of your arrival here do you remember Rhaina?” He asked quietly.He saw her head jerk up from the sides of his vision, but he did not raise his gaze fully from the book in front of him.When he did chance a glance at her she was no longer slouched with her head down, her back was ramrod straight, her eyes locked onto his.If he could have seen her hands in that moment, he was sure they were locked together like a vise in her lap.Good, he had her attention.

“Nothing,” She answered.“I remember nothing.”Irving nodded and opened the book, flipping pages until he found what he was looking for.

“You were three years old.”He began, “Much younger than most apprentices.”

“Yes, I knew that, but only from others telling me.”Again Irving merely nodded.

Rhaina for her part was in a panic.Her heart thudded in her chest, her breathing seemed to become louder, her vision tunneling, the room seemed dark and far away, all she could see was Irving’s face.Her nerves were on edge, like a storm back building, hanging on the precipice before wreaking havoc, that moment before thunder rumbled darkly and spears of light came to stab the air with raw power.She trembled with the effort to contain the tempest within.Irving caught her gaze and held it, his grey blue eyes echoing the storm in her heart. He maintained that eye contact, willing her to _calm down_ , feeling her breathing slow, and the tension in the room lessen.A small stack of books setting at the edge of his desk fell to the floor causing Rhaina to jump, but effectively distracting her as well.Irving took a deep thankful breath; that had been too close!

Irving slowly closed the book, knowing himself for a fool.He should never have attempted to contain her magic, something he had never done before.Theoretically it was possible to temporarily bind a person’s power, but he had been arrogantly confident that he could do it alone.

“Your birth, child, was at the very moment the heavens and earth aligned at a precision which occurs only once a year.This particular cycle, will not be duplicated but once in one hundred years.”Laying the book aside, he folded his hands together. “Your birth was either the greatest accident or the cleverest design of magic known.” Irving rose and came to sit in the chair next to her, reaching out to pry apart her hands gently and enclosed them within his larger ones.

“This detailed of an accounting of any one person’s birth, outside of the nobility, is unusual.”He clasped her hands tighter as she made to move away, unwillingness in every line of her small body.“The Chasind are one of the few who still trace lineage in this kind of detail, but only for the descendants of the Shaman.”Her hands withdrew from his grasp and she stood up, needing some amount of space apart from him, backing up until she was almost to the bookshelves lining the far wall, shaking her head.

“The Chasind possess no magical abilities.”She shook her head back and forth so hard that her hair began coming loose from the braid, making her appear wild.Her eyes wide, nostrils flaring in denial as she stood more proud than he had seen since that moment two years ago. “They are cannibals, barbarians with no sense of law except to survive.”

“Stories, child.Mere stories to instill fear, so that few, if any would brave the roads traveled by the Chasind.”He rose and turned to the long table that ran almost the full length of the room, pulling a large volume from a stack and bringing it back to his desk.

Rhaina calmed herself, taking deep breaths, slowing her hearts frantic beating.She did not understand why fear clawed at her still, but it would not serve her, fear never did.

The tome Irving held was old, from its metal clasps of intricately designed runes with trees and vines that carried into the leather cover; seamed and cracked with age, he held it with reverence.She moved cautiously back to the chair curiosity winning out as she hesitantly sat beside Irving. Irving lifted his head up as she once again took her seat, and regarded her with his usual kindness and patience.Rhaina looked to the book in his lap, seeing strange symbols and patterns, trying to understand it.She could almost see a pattern, but the harder she looked the more she felt she was missing something important.Some looked like trees, stones in particular formation that made no sense.Irving watched her carefully as he slowly placed the tome in her lap.It being much too large for her, he pulled himself closer so that he could help support the tome and turn the pages slowly.

“While we seek to preserve magic, passing on knowledge to new apprentices, the Chantry forbids certain practices as evil, tainted devices born of demons.”

“Blood magic?” She whispered the question, her hands still in their turning of the pages and she sought his face.Irving shook his head.

“No, this is much older.”He turned another page and she saw a tree, larger, but obviously related to the small tree next to Irving’s desk, its leaves carefully drawn in great detail.The symbols around the tree were completely new to her, also drawn beautifully.She looked from the book, to the tree in the office, then to Irving’s kind face.

“We have lost more lore than we can possibly learn in our lifetime.”He told her, his voice lowered for her ears alone. “For some, magic comes easily; others struggle with control, ability, or the propensity to take shortcuts.”He reached for the book and drew it from her seeking hands.As he looked into her eyes, he saw her openness, curiosity, and yearning. “For you, as with the Shaman of the Avvars, the power of magic is innate; a kinship between your mind and the elements exists for you by the nature of your birth and your lineage.”

“I am not nearly as good as some of the other apprentices.”She frowned. “I think you must be wrong.I do not feel this connection you speak of.”Even as she said the words, she _wanted_ Irving to be right, feeling herself needing something greater than what she was.A single tear fell upon her cheek before she could stop it.She was weak in mind if she thought more power could bring her anything good.Pride, the great equalizer could doom her; a lesson taught all mages at the beginning of their training and reinforced constantly.

“The Avvars died out long ago.” She seemed completely unaware that she had spoken those words aloud. “Who could be tracking information such as my nameday, and why?”

Irving rose and placed the tome back onto the table.He was not as young as he once was, and the years were starting to tell on him, the graying of his beard, the lines on his face spoke volumes, if only to his own reflection.

“In the days of my youth, my mentor was a Chasind Shaman possessing the solar attributes in his powers; fire elements were easier for him than water, air or earth.”Rhaina openly stared at Irving, knowing a Chasind had never been in the tower.

“You, child, possess the four elements in equal measure.You will control and use Fire, Water, Air, and Earth with ease few will master even after years of study.”Here Irving hesitated, but partial answers would not avail here, and he took her hand in his, guiding it to the soil of the tree next to his desk, kneeling with her before the tree.Rhaina resisted that pull right up until the moment her hands reached in and _felt_ the tree respond.

She clenched the soil in her hand, digging deeper until her fingers became entangled with the roots; wanting this connection, Irving kept a hold on her wrist but did not guide or impede her movements.She felt Irving’s presence, a pulse within the tree, then her own, answering the summons from deep within her mind.Irving felt the barrier he had created those few years ago melt away from Rhaina’s mind, and only then did he release her from his touch.

Rhaina pulled her hands from the soil, not having remembered plunging the other hand in as well. She looked at her them, caked in dirt, filling every faint line of her skin so that details she had not even been aware of were evident in small swirls and paths, creating patterns that held her, entranced.

“Control,” Irving went on. “This is paramount.”He pulled Rhaina from her knees and set her back into the chair.“What happened two years ago, must not happen again.” Irving set about holding her hands between his, rubbing the soil into her skin.

“What happened two years ago?” She asked.Irving continued to massage each hand, working the soil into her skin until it was barely discernable.

“You had a waking dream of sorts.”He placed her hands onto her lap and tilted her chin towards him as he spoke again.“You will study harder how **_not_** to do magic, than those who study **_how_** to do it.” Irving brought both his hands to frame her face, insuring he had her full attention.

“You possess an unusual combination of abilities, and we cannot delve too deep into those abilities lest the Templars feel that working.The Chantry will not abide that much power in a single mage and tranquility is certain if they even remotely suspect it.You will be stripped of emotions and your access to the Fade will be cut off forever.”He warned.

Irving saw understanding dawn on her, amethyst eyes swirled in a myriad of colors he had not noticed before now; dark and light a profusion of violet.Tranquility was not a subject they dwelled on with the younger mages, and the tranquil themselves would not likely volunteer information, even if pressed.

“You will do well in your studies, but not _too_ well.”He instructed.“You will forego your evening kitchen duties and meet with me here, daily, until I see you have better control than you have evidenced in the past.”

Rhaina nodded, blinking her eyes and stretching her face with a wide opening of her mouth, shaking her head as though it was all too much of a sudden.

“Won’t that have the opposite effect?Special attention from the First Enchanter seems unusual.”She pointed out. Irving smiled and laughed loudly as he drew her up to stand in front of him.He took one of her hands and placed it upon his heart, holding it there.

“Tell me child, can you sense anything?”Her brows drew together and she looked at his hand holding hers, looked back at his face trying to see what he expected.She could feel the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his hands, and something else, a knot of tension, an old worry that was buried deep.Without caution, she exuded a peace, some part of her soothing that knot so cleverly hidden for so long.He removed her hand and shook his head.

“No. This is one thing you must not do.I understand that you feel things, things within me, or anyone you are in close contact with.”He put her away from him and went to stand behind the desk, putting that between them to help with the temptation she offered.Solace was not for him, not now.

“Whomever you touch with that power, will feel it.They may or may not understand it, and your gift is beyond price, but you must trust me when I say that you must refrain from its use.”

Rhaina looked at her hand as if it belonged to someone else.The skin was warmer, almost hot and she wanted to ease that which obviously disturbed the First Enchanter.How was that power bad?

“Empathic ability has probably always been active in you, but as you get closer to full adulthood, it will bloom to its full capability.I suspect that you know the temper of the room by your senses alone.”He gripped the back of his chair hard, so tempted to allow her to ease his responsibility for just a moment.

Her fear bloomed suddenly bright, and Irving very quickly came back to stand beside her. “No,” he hissed. “You must control your emotions.I can feel your fear, and so might anyone with any sensitivity at all, your sendings are too strong!”She shook, her whole body trembling in fear as she tried to do as he asked and control it.Her mind raged for release until Irving gathered her into his arms and allowed her to draw on his strength, gave her access to his control.

They stood that way for several minutes, Irving held her firmly against him, opening his mind to her and she swept in like a tide.All his years he had never felt this, not since his mentor had given him the same, he had been even younger than Rhaina.

She was crying, but seemed unaware of that fact just as she was probably unaware that her arms had wrapped around Irving’s waist as she clung to him desperately.

Calmer, Rhaina pulled away looking into his face, understanding flowing into her. Tears flowed freely now as she acknowledged that she would never be normal.Always set apart, always alone.“They will make me tranquil, won’t they?”

“Only if they find out little one.”He wiped the tears from her cheeks.There had been no option, but she knew now, knew that control was paramount and she had drawn on his own control to shape her own.He was exhausted, his legs felt weak. “Let me worry about the Knight-Commander and the Chantry, it is a dance I know very well.”

 

 


	5. Moonlight becomes you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anders shows Rhaina her first view of the world outside of the circle and so much more.

The years passed, periods of frenzied activity followed by brief lulls that made time seem to ripple in its passing. Rhaina was almost eighteen now. Her study patterns were not the same as the other students; being as half her days these last four years had been spent with Irving as her personal tutor. She knew there was talk, no one really tried to pretend otherwise; they all thought she was sleeping with Irving to incur favor. She snorted as she made her way to the library, thinking on all the other apprentices who could not see past their own noses.

It did not help that the only people who ever befriended her were men, but she had not sought them out. Those things alone made her “different”, an enigma that they did not understand, as they had not understood her entire life. The petty jealousies, crude innuendo, and gossip were something she chose to ignore, considering it a waste of time for them and her. 

She agreed with them on one thing; Anders. She liked Anders; he was funny, smart, talented, an outrageous flirt and pushed her to be friends when no one else would. He was a ball of energy, subdued and contained within the circle, but that energy waned in the confinement they all shared. Anders had many friends but none that went deep, just as many lovers, both male and female, templar and mage, but no one seemed special to him. She fully expected one day soon to find him gone; his lack of serious attachments, the way he never decorated his pallet, or stored any treasures, as though he were a visitor and would leave for home any day now, where his real life was.

He had run away six times already, searching for the person or place that would fill the void in his heart, and Rhaina could feel the tension in him building to the point when he would run again. His studies would start to suffer, he couldn’t concentrate; he would disappear three or four times in any given day seeking release with a number of lovers but to no avail.

He never stopped her from calming his emotions, seeming to understand that she only meant to have him hold onto himself a little longer; each time he was brought back it was as if pieces of him were being left behind. If he ran again, so close to his Harrowing, it was likely the templars would make him tranquil, removing all emotion and solving their problem once and for all.

Rhaina shuddered to think of it. She liked the tranquil, they were useful, single minded and entirely focused on their duty. She had once enjoyed working with them over the mages but as her talent grew; her need to feel the emotions of those around her, to feel the way of things had become something necessary to her well-being. To sever that connection would kill her, the same as it would kill Anders. She could not imagine him without seeing the gleam in his eyes, the easy smile, or the energy and magnetism of his personality.

Irving had taught her to control her empathic abilities. Akin to an intuition that could tap into the emotions of those around her, she had to control what she allowed past her guard as well as what she sought to sense. She could read the emotional currents of a room with no one the wiser and individuals rarely knew she was calming them or reading them at all. The hard part was not letting those emotions influence how she felt; like taking the temperature of the water without slipping ones whole body into boiling water unchecked. She was especially careful around the templars, particularly Greagoir, who still watched as if she would turn him into a frog or something worse.

She made her way to the far corner of the library, to their table, the one that she, Anders and Jowan used study or argue, but she saw Anders sitting alone, staring at the candles lit upon the table his chin held by his laced fingers. His red-gold hair shone like the sun and his amber eyes like pools of honey as he regarded her approach, a soft smile on his full lips and the barest hint of stubble on his chin. When she made to sit he shook his head and took her hand in his as he rose and pulled her towards the stairs. He placed a finger to her lips when she would have asked what he was doing and Anders smiled mischievously as he turned and led the way with her hand still held firmly in his.

When he came to the second set of stairs near Irving’s study she balked. They were not allowed up there except on special duties and then escorted by templars. Anders kept a firm grip on her hand and smiled that impish grin that melted everyone’s heart. Rhaina sighed, giving in to the pulling and followed him up to the third floor. They continued on until they were at the stairs leading up to a fifth level. They had come across no one. Rhaina had never been here and was fascinated with the architecture, the general feel. Ancient, her senses felt, and something she could not quite put her finger on … blackness. She shivered and reined herself in from seeking anything farther, something was not right.

When they reached the chamber at the top of the last set of stairs Rhaina stood, stunned at the multicolored glass that was so close one could walk up and touch it, which she did, and marveled at the different textured glass that had been used, and the colors were amazing. She wondered what was lighting them up so brightly and as Anders led her all unseeing to the middle of the room and turned her to face an open section of the tower. She nearly fell to her knees at the scene before them.

The moon in full cycle was all the view from the heights. The glow turned her skin to pale ice and put blue streaks into her otherwise black hair. She smiled at Anders, seeing him a different shade of pale as well and his hair practically glowing in the moonlight. Her hand tightened in his as he led her to the very edge and she could breathe in the cool night air and marvel at the moonlight dancing on Lake Calanhad far below.

Anders watched her reaction to the view and was pleased that he had thought of this. A templar had shown it to him last month and after much trading he was able to fix the templar up with another of the female apprentices allowing him to bring Rhaina here. He wanted to see how she would react to an outside view and he was entranced with her reaction; full of wonder and awe.

Rhaina flung her arms around his neck and cried silent tears. Anders held her, knowing that the first view of the outside world had robbed her of speech. He felt her loneliness, more acute than ever before and was sorry that it caused her pain.

“No, it’s not your fault Anders.” She whispered into his ear, her breath teasing the sensitive skin. When she pulled away to stare into his face trying to reassure him she was drawn to the sudden fire in his eyes and felt the change when his hand came up and caressed her jaw. When his thumb moved across her bottom lip so lightly she leaned closer to increase the contact and Anders nearly crowed in delight. 

Slowly he lowered his mouth to hers, giving Rhaina plenty of time to stop him, he nibbled on that lip, caressing with teeth and tongue as his hands encircled her narrow waist and he drew her in. 

Rhaina turned her head slightly, giving Anders silent permission to do more than graze her lips with his, but oh, those lips were soft and inviting as they sought hers and it seemed natural to return the kiss as her mouth parted and his tongue began a slow dance that made her knees weak. His hands began exploring her curves, the small of her back and lower to the swell of her bottom where he lingered to press her closer to him. Rhaina moaned, overcome with need, a need she did not know existed until a few moments ago.

When Anders moved to kiss her jaw and neck; his tongue tracing a path of delicious fire she wanted to touch him, to caress his neck and loose his hair, such a wondrously bright color compared to her own black. When Anders parted her robe at her neck and bit her playfully Rhaina dropped her head back, exposing her throat to his wandering mouth.

Anders placed a hand on her breast and rubbed across hardened nipples, his own cock jumping in response when Rhaina gasped, and she tightened her hold around his broad shoulders. He had not expected a virgin to respond so quickly, normally it took quite a while for things to progress to this point. Not that he minded, especially the little moans coming from her as he bit her neck and fondled her breasts with abandon.

The stone floor was going to be cold and Anders had no wish to quench Rhaina’s fire now. Removing his hands from her body, he began unfastening his robe. Rhaina watched his fingers and marveled at each bit of flesh as it was exposed to the cool air. When he was completely divested of his robe and stood before her clad in his small clothes she stared, unable to help herself.

Living in such tight quarters in the apprentice dorms it was considered rude to stare, so she had just learned to ignore the varying state of undress anyone was in and really had not paid attention. 

Anders was hard muscled across his chest and a line of hair from the center ran a straight line down below his waist to disappear beneath his small clothes. The same clothes that were doing little to hide the evidence of his desire and she felt the sudden need to giggle as nervousness tried to take over.

When Anders laid his robe like a blanket in the moonlight he took her hands in his and drew her down with him to the floor. Still on their knees he began to caress and explore once more, slowly removing Rhaina’s robe until she too was only in her small clothes and breast band. He moaned when she began to kiss his neck and explore his body with her hands. When his engorged cock poked out of his smalls he ground it against her stomach, begging for her touch. When Rhaina tentatively explored his sex with one hand he plunged his tongue into her mouth once more, willing her to let go and feel the need as great as he did.

Rhaina grasped Anders’ cock in her hand and felt a rush of liquid between her legs as Anders plundered her mouth and pulled her against him in a strong embrace that quickly shifted as his hands and mouth kissed along her jaw, down her neck, causing ripples of energy that were driving her mad. Arching her back she pushed her breasts into his chest as he released her breast band and the feel of his chest hair against her already hardened nipples caused her to groan and tighten her grip on his sex.

Anders was experienced in sex, and even though Rhaina’s touch was unsure and inexperienced he had not felt this lack of control since first visiting the brothel in Denerim.

Taking her gently, he laid her upon his robes and moved away from her exploring fingers to kiss her breasts and lavish her nipples with his tongue and teeth. Her breasts sparkled in the moonlight, lovely and innocent she was laid out for him like a feast for the Maker’s own pleasure. 

Rhaina was lost in the sensation caused by Anders’ mouth and hands; moaning and gasping at each new sensation. When he explored farther and delved his probing fingers into her slick folds she cried out and bucked against him not even aware when he slid her small clothes away and pushed her legs apart to explore her fully. Her hands were mindlessly grasping and massaging his shoulders and neck but when he moved beyond her reach to slip his tongue into her very core she cried out and gripped his robe in her fists, bucking into his mouth and straining against the fabric.

While his tongue played with her swollen nub he slipped a finger into her and felt her spasm and fresh new nectar flooded his hand. He began moving his finger in counterpoint to his tongue until her head was thrashing from side to side and she was moaning constantly. When he slipped in a second finger and delved deeper, reaching her barrier and probed it slightly, increasing his attention on her sweet hard center with his tongue as he pushed steadily through her barrier with his fingers.

Whatever pain she had been feeling at Anders touch was quickly engulfed in a feeling of ecstasy that started in her center and seemed to radiant into every nerve ending in her body as she came. Her shouts echoed in the chamber and turned to moans as Anders licked every drop of her sweetness before removing his fingers, bloodied and slick from her core.

As he moved his member to her entrance she wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him in, burying him in one swift movement. As he broke through the remaining barrier she stiffened but he began thrusting in and out, slowly at first until she was begging for more, her hips meeting every drive. Anders could feel himself losing control and sat back on his heels, pulling her hips towards him and then raising himself onto his knees and plunged into her, over and over, faster and faster, her tight sheath spasming as she came again and Anders felt himself swell as he spilled his seed; his shouts echoing hers in his release.

As they lay together, the moon riding high in the night sky; still filling up the windows with its eerie light, dozing slightly as breathing returned to normal and they smiled at each other. Anders kissed her cheek and then raised himself up, offering her his hand as she rose.

“I knew this would be special, but I had no idea.” He whispered in her ear. She hugged him to her, laying her head against his chest, wishing they were free, outside the tower bathed in moonlight and love.

“Thank you Anders. The view is astounding, but the other was remarkable!” She chuckled to herself as they parted and began dressing.  
“What are you laughing at?” he asked, hopping around on one foot as he pulled on his shoes.  
‘Now I know why everyone does this all the time!” She laughed out loud.  


As they made their way back down to the first floor, no one impeded them, they encountered no templars. It wasn’t until later that Rhaina remembered the odd feeling she had had on the fourth floor and the darkness behind it.

**Author's Note:**

> This story will stray from the game canon but so much is left to our imagination and I just went with it. I could not have gotten this done without the editing and friendship of Retln8 (also a published author on this site). I am grateful for her friendship and encouragement as this story would otherwise not exist. Enjoy! I have decided not to continue with this story line, so for now we will continue in another story .....


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